


What Friends are For

by Sunny_Lana



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV), A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: Almost Kiss, Boarding School, Bookworm Klaus, But Duncan and Violet are cuter, Carmelita Spats is Awful, Duncan in love, F/M, Fluff, Inventing Minds, Journalism, Kidnapping, Klaus and Isadora are Cute, Not Canon Compliant, Poetry, Prufrock Prep, Romance, Saving the World, Teenage Drama, V.F.D., Volunteer Fire Department, cuteness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-04-20 11:22:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14259876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunny_Lana/pseuds/Sunny_Lana
Summary: Duncan and Isadora Quagmire have been kidnapped and try to make the best of it. Though there's not much but horribleness at the beginning, middle, and end of this tale, the Quagmires find out what friends are for.The dialogue is not at all canon compliant, even though it centers around the Netflix TV series more than the books by Lemony Snicket. With that said, spoilers for Season 2 and all the shenanigans that are involved.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically the nonsense of my head, but I really enjoyed writing it. Hopefully you'll enjoy reading it. It's all unbeta'd, so there are most likely some grammatical mistakes, for which I apologize.

_Prologue_

He dreams of her sometimes, in those horrid nights where he’s clinging to Isadora and they’re stuck like peas in a pod inside the cage. It makes him want to cry.

But he sees Violet Baudelaire when he closes his eyes, so he usually keeps his eyes shut. It’s fine, because it’s mostly dark anyway.

He can hear intermittent snickering, cackling, and other unpleasant noises when he does bother to listen, but when light comes, that is when he is most grateful. He puts the sunshine that seeps through the cracks to good use. He and Isadora have always had paper with them; he’s a journalist and she’s a poet and that’s all there is to them. Quigley was a cartographer, and that was his specialty, but they were only two of three triplets now. So it takes them a while to learn.


	2. Part the First

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The paragraphs of italicized writing, from here on out, will be Duncan's written work. Also, I have assumed sibling order, but that’s another matter entirely.

_Part the First_

He and Isadora sometimes try shouting for help – it’s such a long way down the shaft, probably, or, more properly, such a long way  _up_  the shaft, but knowing as they do that the Baudelaires will eventually come, they both hold onto hope.

There is one day in the mess that he thinks he hears Violet’s voice shouting his name; Isadora says she hears Klaus, but they think that they’re dreaming for a while. The noises continue with dramatic words, and exclamations in some terrible accent, and something changes.

The two Quagmire triplets look at each other, their eyes lighting up.

“But…that means Count Olaf has found them again,” Isadora adds dejectedly, her foot thumping against the cage.

Duncan’s more optimistic. “Perhaps we can all escape together,” he suggests, patting Isadora on the back lightly. Being the technical oldest of triplets feels like a weighty burden sometimes, but he imagines that’s how Violet feels being the oldest of three as well. Sometimes you have to take on the tasks the others cannot, and sometimes you just want to protect the others with all you have, like it’s an innate instinct.

The words sort of flow through his brain and that is when he decides it’s time to start writing, to take up the pencil and put down his thoughts and feelings.

Isadora grabs a flyleaf from him, and starts scribbling down her own verses, perhaps hoping to pass the time. Duncan finds several pages of notes on V.F.D. and remembers that the Baudelaires will need this information.

So he flips farther along in his notebook, to the empty pages. They’re as blank as his life has been since the fire, since Quigley and his parents had been lost.

“Duncan,” Isadora whispers slowly. “Do you think they’ll find us? Do you think we’ll ever get out of here? I don’t want to be stuck in a cage forever.”

Duncan breathes out, thinking of his words. “They will find us. These are the Baudelaires, ‘Dora,” he dubs affectionately. “They’re inventive, and clever, and they use everything they have to their advantage.”

“I really like them, from the moment we met them, I knew we were meant to be friends,” Isadora returns with a soft smile.

Duncan nods in reply, his hand poised over his journal. “What friends are for,” he intoned, his voice still and quiet.

Isadora leans back against the cage, slumping over her poetry. Her eyes are slightly wet with the memory, but she sniffles it back and begins scribbling once more.

           

Duncan was splitting himself into pieces trying to force himself to write. Some things don’t push you all the way to the brink, but there is usually a quick event to follow afterwards that gives you a good shove over the edge of the cliff. For the Quagmires, the death of their family members and the burning of their home had pulled them to the brink. Being kidnapped by Count Olaf and his ruthless troupe had sent them over the edge.

Twiddling his fingers through his pencil, the young journalist ponders the ideas that slip through his brain.

Doodles come and go, and two letters stick out. 

**_V. B._ **

He knows what they mean, who they stand for, and he’s glad of the reminder. Violets bloom in a lot of light, in the light of hope. That reminds him of her, and how she’s always been strong, no matter what she’s been through.

He finds himself writing about her without even meaning to entirely.

 

_It’s not hard to remember why I like Violet so much. Her mind is utterly brilliant, full of creative ideas and the spark of life. It sort of reminds me of Quigley. I miss him – I miss both of them. Being trapped in a cage down an elevator shaft has left me with time to ponder all the things I truly miss._

_Violet is someone I have found more recently, but we were hardly able to spend much time with each other. She’s just so brave and there’s a certain sparkle in her eye whenever she’s thinking about disagreeing with you, whenever she’s about to create the best analysis and build something unexpected. She puts her hair back, and suddenly all of her ideas come to surface. It’s like me, when I’m writing. That light turns on in your mind and it burns and burns, and something great comes to surface._

_Violet’s a flickering flame on a candle that sometimes falters, but never goes out, because she’s beautiful and brilliant and fascinating and clever and wonderful._

           

 Isadora leans over, trying to peek at the pages of his notebook. “Someone misses Violet,” she snickers slightly, unable to fully gather her laughs in their situation.

He mimics her, eyes mischievous. “Someone misses Klaus,” he tags on, peering at her poetry, wherein Klaus’s name has managed to be placed in rhyming couplets through many series’ of unusual slant rhymes.

“I think,” Isadora poses, “that they sort of came into our lives and filled in the blanks, the missing pieces of the poem, no matter how briefly.”

Duncan nodded, his eyes lowered onto the dirty ground of the elevator shaft. “I think you’re very right.”


	3. Part the Second

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The utter fluff of this chapter...

_Part the Second_

There are startling noises up above, mostly voices of worry and harried concern. He shakes Isadora, who is dozing off.

She straightens up, and he grips her hand, disbelieving.

The determined lull of Violet’s voice, the utter curiosity of Klaus’s tones, the unintelligible but surely intellectual coos of Sunny – there’s a garbled mix of such clamor and they’ve never been so happy, not for months.

There’s a basket-like thing coming into view, the bottom of it woven and matted, and as the basket shifts downward, the appearance of three children who have been followed by a series of unfortunate events becomes more obvious. Flattening fabric drapes around them, and they’re searching, looking, but only for a few moments.

“Duncan,” Violet says almost breathlessly.

Klaus, too, has to add his concerns, calling Isadora’s name with no small amount of desperation. “Isadora!”

Sunny’s garbled baby gabbing follows, but Duncan has already lost sense of time at the sound of his own name slipping from Violet’s lips.

He and Isadora pull themselves to their feet as fast as humanly possible, their hands stretching through the cold metal bars of the cage.

“We finally found you,” Violet murmurs, as Duncan says “We knew you’d come!”

“That’s what friends are for,” adds Klaus, his eyes straying to Isadora, who’s giving him a fond smile.

Violet hauls herself out of what Duncan has to assume is something she’s created – a makeshift hot air balloon. It will never cease to amaze him the things her mind can concoct. She turns for a brief moment, picking up Sunny, and places her on her hip. Klaus lumbers out, looking slightly less graceful.

“We’ve got to get you out of there,” Violet starts, giving the lock on the cage her best formidable stare.

Isadora holds up her hands dejectedly. “We’ve tried everything we could think of,” she announces, casting an angered look to the object holding them back from escape. “Nothing has worked, nothing at all.”

“There’s got to be something,” Klaus starts, looking frustrated by the lamentable position of his two friends.

Isadora’s eyes light up, and then she slips her hand into her pocket. “Perhaps you can make better use of this than we have,” she suggests, handing Violet their piece of the telescope-code-machine as Klaus retrieves the Baudelaire’s piece from his own coat pocket.

Violet fits them together, Duncan watching her with grateful eyes. “There are different settings on the dials,” he explains, as Violet twists the object in her hands. “It’s all part of V.F.D.”

Both Klaus and Violet give him startled expressions at the acronym. “V.F.D.” Klaus mutters somewhat darkly. “That’s the answer then? The answer to the questions?”

Duncan holds up a notebook. “You guys will need this – it’s all the information we’ve written down on V.F.D.,” he declares, exchanging knowledgeable glances with Isadora.

“First we have to get you out of the cage,” Violet interrupts, her face screwing up. “It’s our fault that you were captured by Count Olaf in the first place,” she adds, looking rather apologetic.

Duncan’s hand makes it to hers first, even though Isadora reaches. “It’s not your fault,” he promises, looking into Violet’s eyes. He flushes, his eyes straying to Klaus, who is staring at him uncertainly through his glasses. “We would do it all over again,” the journalist adds, looking at his sister. “Because we know what friends are for. You guys helped us find hope again, and we would have done anything to repay you.”

Violet’s eyes are wide with gratitude and no small measure of disbelief. “Duncan,” she says again, kind of like a mantra. “We will save you, we promise.”

She peers down at the object in her hand, twisting it, and there’s sudden light. Klaus examines the piece closer. “It looks like ultraviolet light rays,” he declares, exchanging glances with his older sister.

“We could use it on the cage,” Violet realizes, and she shines the light onto the lock on the iron cage the Quagmires have called home for days.

The lock rattles and shakes and glows red, but it’s to no avail. “It’s not working,” Klaus finally admits, his shoulders slumping.

Violet hums under her breath, unsettled. There’s a panic under her skin – nay, under  _everyone’s_ skin – at how long they have been gone, and there’s a question. How long do they have before the notorious Count Olaf returns?

“Go,” Isadora finally implores, her voice worried and tense. “It’s not going to work, but I’m sure you two will think of something,” she adds hopefully, reaching out to hold Klaus’s fingers with hers, a brief moment of solace in the darkness of this life that follows them around like wildfire.

Klaus turns, half unwilling, and climbs back into their created mode of transportation. Violet hands Sunny to him, and then she looks back at the Quagmires, her eyes dark, somewhere between dangerous and sad. “We’ll save you, Quagmires. Even if it’s the last thing we do,” she vows.

Then she quickly hurdles herself into the hot air balloon.

Klaus is already twisting dials, and he has found a setting on their combined telescope invention, the kind of heat and burning that they truly need. It will get them back up to the penthouse with any luck.

_And with any luck, they’ll return soon_ , Duncan thought.

 


	4. Part the Fourth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The italicized paragraphs are once again Duncan and his writing. Journalists gotta keep good notes! ;)

_Part the Third_

_Well, it seems we’re all running out of luck_ , Duncan realizes later, when it’s probably night time, or maybe early in the morning. 

The statuette of the red herring that they're stuck together in is unpleasant, and he’s too close to Isadora for comfort. He finds it suddenly odd that he wouldn’t mind it so much if it were, perhaps, Violet trapped with him. Is this what growing up is like?

It’s a fleeting thought that if Quigley were with them surely Count Olaf would have had to find a bigger place to store them. Sometimes he’s glad Quigley doesn’t have to go through all of this – it’s not to say that he doesn’t miss his younger brother, or that he’s glad of the death of his youngest sibling, and it’s certainly no discredit to his brother’s likely heroism, but Duncan doesn’t think he could worry about the safety of anymore people. He doesn’t know what that says about him.

_Mother and father used to say that everything happens for a reason. I suppose I’ll never know quite whether those reasons are supposed to be always good ones. I’m not entirely unhappy; I have much to be grateful for. Isadora is still here and alive, and so am I. We may be cramped inside a giant and very literal red herring, but we are safe._

_I just hope the Baudelaires are safe as well. I can’t help it if I’m worried about them, too. They’re almost in a far worse position than we are – we’ve been kidnapped already, but they’re in the process of being kidnapped, if Count Olaf will have anything to do with it. I don’t yet know what to do, but Isadora and I will come up with something._

_I really want to see Violet again._

There is no time to buy and no time to waste, and he and Isadora whisper sometimes, trying to figure out a way out. The criminal troupe of so-called actors – miscreants, Duncan rather thinks – thumps on the roof of the car if they get too loud.

He passes time using his pocket knife, which hasn’t come in handy yet, to carve into the wall of the red herring statuary. It’s a risky move, knowing they could tip at any moment, but Duncan thinks it’s a good way to test out the sturdiness of the red herring walls.

It’s a letter he starts with, and it becomes obvious what letter it is within a few moments. He traces the shape with his fingers, and realizes the initials have sort of become like his wishing star.

It’s  ** _V_** , of course. The  ** _B_** , with its round curves, follows quickly.

He wants to be embarrassed by the quick  ** _D_**  and  ** _Q_  **that he etches above the other letters, and there’s a ceremonious  **+** stuck right in the middle of the cluster of letters like it’s trying to hold all of them together.

Isadora’s voice comes quickly. “What are you doing?” He tries to laugh it off, but she sees, and he knows the light of the moon is just enough.

“Oh,” she pronounces, amusement in her voice. “You never know,” she tags on, and he wonders if that’s her volunteer to support his – well, he supposes that it’s a crush, for now, if he can define his feelings as  _an intense but usually short-lived infatuation._ Then again, their future is uncertain, and short-lived things can become long-awaited things.

Duncan just sighs. “That’s true. I have this feeling, though, that Violet will always be there, one step behind me. One step behind us.”

Isadora draws a breath. “Does she ever catch up?”

“I don’t know.”

 


	5. Part the Fourth

_Part the Fourth_

They’ve been moved so many times – it’s not to say that Duncan is losing count, but the idiot Count has only been adding to the tragic experience of their mobility since their house was struck by fire.

The acting group is joined by some new lady named Esmé, who seems to have a flair for the dramatic, not unlike what he and Isadora have experienced from Count Olaf so far. He remembers hearing her voice a lot when the Baudelaires were staying at the penthouse in the city, but he doesn’t remember what context it was in. He finds himself somewhat unconcerned for details, honestly, if they’re just going to be transported around again.

This time, they’re moved into this giant crow statue, as if the count has some obsession with statuary. Duncan is not quite so enthused.

It’s a town of crows – literal crows – but the one thing Duncan does notice, when they’re finally breathing fresh air, is that the town is labelled “V.F.D.” much like everything else they’re mixed up in seems to be.

“V.F.D.” Isadora whispers to him. Count Olaf just nudges them along, fiercely, muttering something rude as they stumble forward.

The lady Esmé starts cackling out some colorful words, and then they’re being pushed halfway up the statue of a crow – which may have been some kind of water fountain, if the shape of it is any indication.

The count forces down the bird’s mouth, which abruptly opens, revealing a hidden space that has apparently been deemed big enough to fit two children, although anyone in their right mind would question the legitimacy of such surmising.

Isadora’s eyes light on the birds fluttering around the town, and just like that, Duncan knows the light has flashed on. “When we get inside, hand me some of your paper, will you?” She murmurs lowly.

He thinks he knows what she means to do, and he nods quickly before the Count uses one of his henchmen to shove him up into the hidden space. He collides with the wall, turning around to stick his tongue out at Count Olaf. “You’ll never get away with this, you  _malefactor_.”

Count Olaf tips his head sideways to try and understand the words. “I think that’s sexism,” he declares impishly, his eyes narrowing on the boy.

Isadora rolls her eyes and Esmé lifts her up and pushes her into the statuary bird’s open mouth with the help of the Person of Indeterminate Gender. “Malefactor means  _a person who does harm or evil, especially toward another_.”

“It’s synonymous with  _criminal_ ,” Duncan adds smartly. “And  _miscreant_.”

The Count’s mouth open and closes, but he finally harrumphs and motions for the Person of Indeterminate gender to shove the pair of triplets backwards. As the Person climbs down, Count Olaf and Esmé ban together to shut the mouth of the bird statue closed, cackling.

The last thing Duncan remembers properly seeing is the cold, cruel smile of Count Olaf, who stands grinning next to his two companions.

Duncan hands a notebook to Isadora, and he hears the ripping sounds, hoping that it wasn’t the book he meant to give Vi – _the Baudelaires_. The sound of pen on paper begins to scratch out, and Duncan knows his sister has gotten to work.

The dim lighting provides some sight, but it’s vague. Yet he knows – hopes, yes, hopes – that his sister can make her words clear, and that she will somehow tell the Baudelaires. He, in due turn, comes up with all the synonyms he can for  _villain_. When he remembers that the word  _actor_ can be a synonym too, he finds it highly appropriate.


	6. Part the Fifth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The part in which Count Olaf pretends to be C. Auguste Dupin, and three innocent children are accused of a crime.

Part _the Fifth_

Isadora keeps up her work for days, and Duncan knows she’s being strategic. Yet his worry for his friends overshadows most other ideas.

“I wonder what’s going on outside,” he asks, almost impatiently. He’s pressed up against the stone fountain, like he has been for two days or so, if his calculations are correct. He’s worried that someday he may forget all concept of time.

Isadora is folding her hands in her lap, like she’s trying to bottle up her feelings and be calm. Duncan recognizes it because they’re both antsy, and they would far rather be anywhere but where they are.

“I’d rather take a lick of your big toe than be stuck inside this miserable crow,” Isadora rhymes, half unintentionally, a sigh tagged on to her words.

Duncan makes a disgusted face. “Why my toe? Why not your own?” 

Isadora just stretches out her arm to each him, taking a hold of his elbow. “I just would rather be anywhere but here.”

That’s, of course, when the commotion starts. When Isadora says she’d rather be anywhere but there, she means, certainly, that she would rather be anywhere _pleasant_ rather than stuck inside the stone crow fountain. This does not, for example, extend to being on trial for murder.

"I, Officer Luciana Sabrina Pepper Anastasia Marigold have discovered a terrible crime!" A miserable accent pronounces in an effeminate voice. "Count Olaf is dead!” 

Duncan is sure it’s Esmé, because he hears another voice the next second. “That’s not Count Olaf, that was Jacques Snicket, and you killed him!” It’s Violet, and he can just picture her pointing. He knows the real Count must be out in the open, scheming, tricking people. What began for him and Isadora at Prufrock Prep must have been the way of Count Olaf for a long while, he surmises.

“He was clearly Count Olaf, little girl,” interrupts an even worse accent, perhaps an attempt to be Southern, or maybe an attempt at joining a jazz band. “The eyebrow, the tattoo on the ankle. Haven’t you been paying attention?” The Count mocks, his voice aggressive, angry.

“He’s right, Baudelaires,” says someone who then delves into a coughing fit. Once he’s straightened out, there’s a continuation. “Those are all the signs of Count Olaf.”

Klaus lets out a withering sigh. “But Count Olaf is standing right there – pretending to be Detective Dupin,” he announces, amidst the other noises of what sounds like an angry mob.

Count Olaf comes thickly now, and Isadora clutches onto Duncan tightly. Duncan’s eyes stray for a way to see what’s going on, and he finds a little crack, watching the scene unfold in horror. “I don’t know what you’re trying to pull, young man,” the Count snarks, pulling up in front of Klaus and standing almost nose to nose with him. “But you can’t confound these townsfolk any longer. It's just not cool,” he adds, leaning back. “I think we now know who murdered the utterly handsome Count Olaf,” the fake detective continues with a smirk, tugging something out of Klaus’s pocket. "It's just not cool to accuse people without evidence, but luckily, I have some!" 

He waves it around, and Duncan’s eyes try to catch it. “It’s the blueprint to the jail!” The Count announces loudly, and Duncan’s eyes widen. “Also,” the villain augments, gesturing to where the Person of Indeterminate Gender is pushing some kind of cart out into the open, “we found this invention-y thing behind the jail. This is your invention, is it not?” He quizzes, pointing at Violet with animosity.

“Yes,” she mutters, but then catches hold of herself as the townspeople start jabbering. “But we never even made it into the jail. We weren’t trying to kill anybody, but rather free an innocent man named Jacques Snicket, who was killed by these people,” she pronounces, turning her gaze upon Count Olaf and the henchpeople who had been banging out a suspenseful rhythm on instruments for the last five minutes or so.

“Enough of this fake talk, missy,” the Count sasses, cocking one hand on his hip and forgetting his fake accent for a minute.

“Didn’t you just have an accent a few moments ago?” One of the members of the Council of Elders pipes up.

“I mean…bop, boop, bee, bop, bada, bada, bop,” he sings in a melodious way, backing up to where Esmé stands, dressed as a…policewoman, if Duncan’s guess is correct through his restricted view.

“Anyway,” the Count continuous, his accent popping back in. “These Baudelaires have admitted to conspiring to commit criminal acts! Plus, they have motivation for killing Count Olaf, don’t they?” He hums for a moment, then fixates his eyes on the children. “These two older ones – they’re just uncool accomplices. The real killer is Sunny Baudelaire, with her sharp teeth!” He dramatically points to the baby.

There’s a dark skinned man standing next to the Baudelaires, and he pipes up with near indignation. “You mean to say that a baby used her teeth to kill someone?”

Count Olaf throws his hands wide. “Yes, yes!”

The townspeople whisper and ask each other questions.

 “But we have an alibi,” Klaus protests, turning around, as the rest of the crowd follows his gaze. 

There’s a trembling man standing there, staring with wide eyes at everyone. “Tell them, Hector,” Violet prompts, and Duncan cringes, hearing her desperation. “Please, Hector, tell them we were with you.”

Hector takes a breath in. “It’s true. The Baudelaire children were with me. They couldn’t have committed this crime.”

“Wait a moment,” the male member of the Council of Elders starts, gesturing to the unusual contraption Violet invented. “How did the children get access to all those materials, Hector? Did you give them all of those supplies to create that horrible mechanical machine? You know the rules, mechanical items are banned in the Village of Fowl Devotees!”

Hector gulps and drops backwards into a faint.

“So he’s an accomplice too!” The disguised Count Olaf shouts, and by now everyone is crying out for the Baudelaire’s punishment.

“We should make them clean up the entire town,” one of the men in the crowd shouts loudly.

“We were already doing that,” the woman next to him reminds. “We should make them spend a night in the jail.”

Esmé stands up tall, and Duncan catches a slight glimpse of her, as she’s on the other side of the crow fountain they’re caged in. “Since we can’t do it to Count Olaf, I say we burn the Baudelaires at the stake!”  

Isadora screams, but it’s muffled in Duncan’s sweater.

The rest of the town starts jeering in approval, and one of them even has the gall to say, “Sounds legitimate.”

Duncan can feel his eyes burning, from rage, or from hatred, or from utter sadness. Even if he doesn’t know yet how to escape, he has to now, in order to save the Baudelaires.

He watches “Detective Dupin” cart the siblings away, he holds Isadora closer, wondering if that will be their fate next.


	7. Part the Sixth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologize for the short chapter, but the tale is about to come to a close and I didn't wish for it to end so soon.

_Part the Sixth_

There’s the sound of scrapping which interrupts his worry. Voices, light and quick, come to him next, and there’s a thrill that goes through him.

It’s Violet. It’s Klaus. And of course, Sunny.

He wants to call out to them, but he doesn’t want to startle anyone. He doesn’t want to alert anyone to the presence of the Baudelaires, knowing, suddenly, that they have made an escape.

Isadora’s eyes glow at him in the faded light, and he can practically feel her excitement. They are going to get out, and then they are going to run, far, far away from where Count Olaf can reach them.

The bird’s stone mouth pours open, and as Duncan and Isadora slide out slightly, they see them. It’s light outside, bright, perhaps near midday, and the Baudelaires stand before them, looking somewhere between triumphant and terrified.

“You found my messages,” Isadora concludes, smiling as she reaches for Klaus to help her down.

Duncan takes Violet’s outstretched hand and she pulls him to her. He lands so he’s almost inside her personal space, and he quickly takes a step back as he flushes.

“We did,” Violet confirms, her eyes finally off of Duncan and onto Isadora. “Klaus figured them out.”

“We tried looking for you in the red herring right when we got here,” Klaus added, exchanging looks with Violet, who picks Sunny back up and puts the toddler on her hip. “But I guess they’d already moved you.”

Duncan remembers what he’d carved onto the wall with sudden clarity, and for a moment he can’t fathom how to breathe. “Um, you didn’t happen to see anything anywhere in the red herring did you?”

Violet’s cheeks redden, but only slightly, and if he hadn’t been looking for it, he would have missed it. “Oh, we didn’t have time to look around,” Violet offers, even though her face tells a different story.

Klaus nods in agreement, exchanging a mischievous smile with Isadora. Then they all seem to remember where they are.

“We have to make an escape,” Isadora pipes up first. “We can run. We have to run. We heard what happened earlier – the townsfolk think you murdered Count Olaf.”

Sunny gargled a word that Violet quickly translated to mean “unfounded accusations” and they nodded in agreement. “But,” Violet continued. “We do have a way to escape. A friend of ours has a Self-Sustaining Hot Air Mobile Home, and we’re all going to escape and fly away.”

“Where Count Olaf can never find us, can never reach us, and certainly can’t steal our fortune,” Klaus puts in.

“Then let’s go,” Duncan interjects, his hand in Violet’s suddenly.

She flushes and stares at him. “Okay.”

Sunny stretches out a hand to take Klaus’s, and he offers his hand to Isadora. Isadora slips her hand confidently into her brother’s, and they all look at each other for a moment. “What friends are for,” they agree in unison.

But then they are spotted, Count Olaf and his henchmen in the lead, and they are off on the run again.

 


	8. Part the Seventh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is more or less a scene from a movie - and then some. Enjoy the final (?) installment of this mini series.

After sneaking around buildings like bank robbers from the police – a very terrible analogy in its extreme contradiction with regards to the Baudelaires and Quagmires – they find a mostly dead and very worn fire truck.

They distract a rather nice and adorable donkey to make their way toward it, but they scuttle over to the machine with minimal difficulty.

“It might be our only way of escape,” Isadora announces, shooting Duncan a look.

He nods, searching for a way to operate the machine.

Violet holds up her hands suddenly, understandably worried. “Wait a minute – where’s Sunny?”

The toddler has seemingly disappeared, and Klaus’s eyes strain through his glasses, scanning the landscape. “She can’t have gone far."

“Maybe we’ll see better?” Isadora gestures to the back of the fire truck, a high spot, near the extendable ladder, although it’s certainly would not be a place for firemen to sit.

Duncan climbs up, and holds his hands down to the girls and Klaus. He pulls up Isadora, then Klaus, and finally Violet. He swivels so that she’s sitting next to him, crouched, and searching over the desert for any sign of a missing baby.

The next second, the engine has been started, and the huge roaring fire truck comes to life.

Violet and Klaus must realize something at the same time, because they stare at each other for a moment, before rushing to the front of the vehicle. It’s already started moving forward, and the Baudelaires are almost launched forward, but they manage to stabilize.

Duncan and Isadora cling to anything solid they find, and they watch as Violet and Klaus dip their heads over the front of the vehicle, peering downwards.

“Sunny!” They exclaim in unison.

It’s actually not that surprising for the toddler to be driving a truck, when Duncan thinks about it. Really, she had been accused of committing murder with her teeth not more than a few hours ago.

Sunny plows over a lean-to in her fervor, and Klaus and Violet scramble hastily back to the ladder, where they’re clutching it for dear life. Isadora has almost turned white, but Duncan isn’t the only one who notices it when the villagers at the Village of Fowl Devotees catch on to their escape and pursue them. In true mob fashion, the group is barreling down on them while bearing pitchforks – or rakes, in some cases.

Sunny peals towards the open road, and they all realize she’s spotted the Self-Sustaining Hot Air Mobile Home, as they find themselves getting closer and closer to it.

When they reach Hector, he waves down at them. “Boy am I glad to see you, Baudelaires!” He shouts down.

Violet waves up at him. “We’ve brought some friends along, if that’s okay,” she remarks, gesturing towards Duncan and Isadora.

“The more, the merrier,” Hector responds enthusiastically. “Besides, I could use more help running this thing.” He waves his arm around the whole Hot Air Mobile Home.

Sunny starts the ladder extension, sending it closer to Hector, who drops his own rope ladder.

But a series of unfortunate events follows them, and it can’t even be helped for an escape. The townspeople clutter around the back side of the fire truck, all shouting wild things.

“Hector! You built that? It’s against the laws of V.F.D.!” One of the Council of Elders members shouts. “No mechanical items!”

“The murderers are trying to escape and they’ve got more accomplices with them!” The disguised-but-no-less-disgusting Count Olaf calls out, adding to the ruckus.

Klaus just helps Isadora onto the ladder, sending her up to Hector first. “Just ignore them and climb,” he whispers.

She does, but not before twisting herself to subtly kiss his cheek. “Thanks, Klaus,” she says, with warm eyes.

Duncan marvels at his sister’s directness, but she just nods conspiratorially toward Violet before ascending the ladder.

Violet is addressing the crowd, and she’s picked up a fire hose. “Stay back, all of you, or I will use it!” She declares, waving the hose around like a weapon.

Duncan’s at her side the next second, whispering. “You know it’s got no water in it, right?” He asked, giving her a quizzically mischievous look.

Violet nods to the crowd. “But they don’t,” she reminds, a challenging smirk on her face as the crowd backs up, gasping in protest.

Duncan really likes this side of her, the side that is protective and vindictive and clever. He doesn’t have much time to think on it, because Count Olaf interrupts the happiness again.

“Hey, police chief, don’t just let them escape,” the dastardly count cries out, the crowd somewhat following him, but also growing confused by the chaos.

Esmé hauls a harpoon gun out of nowhere, leaving the children to question where she had even managed to store it.

Klaus tugs on Duncan’s arm. “You’re next,” he reminds, pointing to the ladder. Isadora is at the top of the rope ladder, being tugged up by the man named Hector.

Duncan turns back, and for the briefest moments contemplates just kissing Violet like Isadora had done to Klaus, but right out in the open, for everyone to see. As much as he doesn’t mind newspapers and certainly wouldn’t mind being in one, he would prefer it not to be one on which he’s pictured on the front kissing someone on the cheek.

Then again, it’s Violet Baudelaire. So it’s not just someone. It’s like… _the Someone_. That person you can only find once in a lifetime.

It’s like the world stills, because he has but a moment before Klaus tugs again, before Esme fires the harpoon, before Violet moves too far out of reach.

But he does it quickly, almost subtly, his lips pressed to her cheek, and then he’s dashing for the ladder like it’s nobody’s business, because really, it isn’t. It's just _theirs_. 

Violet flushes, but she’s not stunned into silence. He can hear her, complaining and protesting, even as he climbs higher and higher.

“She could hit the crows! That’s got to be illegal in this town,” Violet points out, waving to the murder of crows swirling around them. “And what if she hits the people?”

“That’s true,” one of the townsfolk pipes up. "I mean about the crows," he adds, shuffling and frowning. 

“The kids were going to die anyway,” Count Olaf reasons, his dark smirk utterly sickening.

“I’ll be very careful,” Esmé promises, holding up the gun into a firing position, while Count Olaf – Detective Dupin, or whatever he’s calling himself – stands grinning at her side.

Duncan makes it up to where his sister is when the first balloon pops as the harpoon hits it with striking accuracy. She fires another round, popping another balloon, while Klaus and Violet protest.

Violet and Klaus are turned toward them, and the ladder is still there, but Duncan sees, even from that distance, when Violet closes her eyes. “Hector! Hector, you have to take the Hot Air Mobile Home away. Fly it far, far away from here!” She shouts up.

“No!” Isadora screams, piercing the air. “Not without you!”

Duncan holds her back from the sides, but they’re both peering out over the edge of the airborne ship. He looks down at them, at Violet, and he knows the answer to Isadora’s question.  _She never catches up._

Esmé unceremoniously pops another balloon and Hector finally turns the ship around, and gets ready to sail away.

Duncan remembers his writing, like he always should. “Hey!” He shouts down, Isadora looking with him. “You guys will need this stuff! It’s all the information we collected on V.F.D.” He pulls out his notebook, and drops it, as Klaus opens his hands to catch.

Just then, Esmé fires again, and this time, she hits the paper. But it’s not only the paper that she catches – it’s a crow.

Hector pilots the balloon away, sadly, his head hanging low, and all is suddenly silent. They will not hear how the Baudelaires escape this time. 

Duncan and Isadora slump on the floor, and it takes a while for them to calm down, but then Isadora only has one thing to say. “ _That’s_  what friends are for.”


	9. The End?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter is to end in a somewhat good but no less ambiguous manner than the books perhaps do. Enjoy!

The end is never the end for the Baudelaires or the Quagmires, and Duncan knows this well. Every ending is just the catalyst for a new beginning with them. Brilliant minds lead to brilliant survival and brilliant discovery.

 

Duncan knows who is responsible for sending Quigley back to him and Isadora: it can only be the Baudelaires. Something tells him it is mostly Violet who is responsible; there’s a subtle way Quigley flushes when her name arises in conversation. It’s instantly hard not to react but Duncan can’t blame him: Violet is sheerly spectacular.

 

He often wants to see her, wants to know what her mind is working on next. Isadora remarks about Klaus and it sets him to his own memories. Even as the days and months pass, they know they can never forget their friends.

 

There is no news - but then, why would there be? The Baudelaires would have no idea where they were or what they were doing unless one of the VFD agents had finally found them (and none reported doing so). But both Duncan and Isadora and even Quigley couldn’t help but wonder - was it the end of their story with the Baudelaires?

 

 

Oh, but you see sometimes in life, a person will meet their other person, their other half, if you will. And sometimes there’s really not so much another half as another group of people who are just supposed to be with this other group of people. And they’re all supposed to live in harmony, in happiness, because they have most certainly earned it.

 

And yet, this is a Series of Unfortunate Events. Nothing goes the way it’s supposed to go.

 

 

Thus it should come as no surprise that the story has another twist.

 

 

For it does come as a surprise when, after months and months have gone by, there is a sudden voice calling out to the Quagmires. And the voice is joined by the waving of hands, and the tired laughter and joy on dirt-laden faces, and stories of near death. And Violet’s hair is longer, and Klaus’ eyes are wider, and Sunny is most definitely not a baby any longer.

 

But they are all together. And they are all happy.

 

And they are just waiting for another series of unfortunate events to occur. Because what is life without a little adventure?


End file.
